


Why don't you use green?

by fieldsofwildflowers23



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-06-10
Updated: 2020-06-10
Packaged: 2021-03-04 01:22:19
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,992
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24645598
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fieldsofwildflowers23/pseuds/fieldsofwildflowers23
Summary: "Why don't you use green?""I do,""No you don't. Why?"Harry is a volunteer at his friend art therapy studio. Draco is the quiet young man that comes in every morning.
Relationships: Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter, Luna Lovegood/Ginny Weasley
Comments: 5
Kudos: 17





	Why don't you use green?

Harry hadn't known what he was expecting. Not this. His eyes darted around the brightly colored room before him. The room seemed like it was originally painted white, but now it was covered in hundreds of different murals. Some of the murals were big, and mostly solid colors, with thick black lines, and others were so detailed it looked like you had painted a picture onto the wall. There were large motivational sayings in a multitude of different fonts. There were portraits of people, some depicting love, others family, and some solitude. There were different animals, some realistic, others cartoon-like. There were also some dark paintings that looked evil and deadly. There were some that didn't even form a comprehensible picture, it was all about the brush strokes.

Needless to say, Harry felt incredibly out of his element. So he stood in the doorway of the room, not entirely sure what to do with himself. After a minute or two, he moved himself onto one of the brightly patterned couches, and picked up one of the pamphlets off of the table. He thumbed through it, eyes glancing over the words, brain not retaining any of the information. Why did he sign up for this? Harry just wanted to go home, but he had to stay. Luna had asked him to be here, and he could never ditch Luna, no matter how uncomfortable he felt.

Harry looked up as he heard muffled voices approaching him. A young woman walked into the waiting room, her long platinum blonde hair flowing gracefully behind her. The woman had on a pair of ridiculous magenta sunglasses, and she removed them when her eyes landed on Harry.

"Harry!" Luna smiled, her eyes bright as she crossed the room to embrace him, "I'm so glad you're here!"

Despite the anxiety that pooled in Harry’s stomach, he couldn't help but smile at his friends enthusiasm, "Of course, Luna, I'm always more than willing to help you out,"

Lune smiled brighter at that, "I hope you weren't waiting for too long,"

"Of course not, Luna, I would've texted you if I had," Harry stated, "Also, I was enjoying looking at all the murals,"

At this Luna lit up. Not just her eyes, but her whole person. Her posture straightened, and her smile became wide, showing off her brilliantly white teeth. Her skin seemed to glow brighter, and her eyes were a shining pale blue, reminding Harry of icicles on a sunny day.

“Aren’t they wonderful,” She spun in a circle, gesturing to all the murals, “They are all made by our patients,”

“That’s what I assumed,” Harry said, a hesitant smile worn across his face. “So... what do you want me to do, Luna,”

“Well, since it’s your first day, I just want you to get used to the environment, maybe get to know some of the patients casually. So, I’ll probably have you doing little jobs, like cleaning brushes, organizing paint shelves, and scraping dried paint off of old pallets so we can use them again. Also, I was hoping at some point today you could walk down the block and pick up some flowers from Madam Malkins,”

Harry laughed lightly, “Sounds like I’m just doing your chores, Luna,”

Luna offered Harry a sly smile, but made no comment, “Well, let me give you a tour of the building, and then we can put you to work.” Luna gilded through the door she had come through, indicating for Harry to follow. The door had led them directly into another room, this one had multiple dark wood tables with elegant black stools placed around them. The tables, while it was obvious they were cleaned regularly, were covered in specks of paint and small pencil marks. The room was well lit, with two hanging lights above each table, as well as two large windows, taking up most of the surface area of two walls. Out one window you could see the street and out the other you could see the botanical gardens that the Art Therapy studio was located next to.

The room was empty of people, except for someone sitting in the corner beside one of the windows. The person was bent over a canvas that sat on the table in front of them, shielding their face from view. Harry pried his gaze from the person as Luna began telling him which cabinet held what materials.

Harry, having only been half paying attention and the fact that it was 9am on a Tuesday and his brain could barely process any information in general, he knew he would have to ask Luna where things were again in the near future.

As Luna continued to show him around the building, like the bathrooms and the kitchen, all of which had the similar colorful and airy feel as the first two rooms, Harry couldn’t help but ask about the man in the second room.

A faint look of confusion passed over Luna’s face in response to Harry’s question, but it quickly faded into realization and she answered his question, “Oh! You mean, Draco? He comes in every morning right when we open and leaves after an hour or two. He mostly keeps to himself, so I don’t actually know too much about him, but I know that he’s a college student. His art is very conflicting, it’s very intriguing actually, but I’ve noticed patterns of colors in his work. He has colors that he likes, and he always uses, but then there are colors that he pointedly doesn’t use. Like, he really likes lavender, he uses it in every painting that I’ve seen of his, but he never uses green. He’s never even so much as looked at green paint. It’s interesting.”

Harry stared at Luna in confusion, “How do you pick up on these things?”

Luna laughed, “I’m an art therapist, if I didn’t pick up on these things, then I don’t think I would be very good at my job,”

Harry smiled, “I guess that makes sense, it’s still pretty incredible that you pick up on those things though,” Harry paused, “Do you think that it’s a conscious or subconscious decision to not use green,”

“I’m not sure. It depends, I suppose, on whether he just doesn’t like the color green, or he has certain feelings or memories attached to the color green, so his subconscious just decides to avoid the color green to avoid those memories,”

Harry hummed in response, intrigued by the man who sat in the next room over. He would likely never get an answer to any of these questions, but it was still interesting to speculate about.

As if on cue, the young man stepped out of the second room and into the waiting room. He froze when his eyes landed on Harry, his grey eyes sweeping Harry up and down cautiously. Draco wore plain black skinny jeans, a white t-shirt, and a loose grey cable knit sweater. It wasn’t what most people would wear to paint, but Draco seemed to trust his skill enough that he wouldn’t ruin his clothes.

Draco’s eyes turned to Luna, his feet slightly shifting anxiously, “Goodbye, Luna,” He said softly, before turning his gaze back to the floor, and walking briskly out of the building.

“Goodbye, Draco,” Luna responded with a smile, even though it was unlikely that he had heard her response.

“See,” Luna said, “He mostly keeps to himself. He is quite an intriguing individual though, isn’t he?”

Harry nodded mutely, still staring at the door Draco had just walked out, even though the young man was long gone. Harry, only half listened as Luna rambled on about what needed to be done that day, his thoughts always drifting back to Draco. Particularly the look in his eyes when they had landed on Harry. Fear.

Somehow Harry had arrived at the studio the next morning before Luna. How? He had no idea. When he arrived, Draco was sitting at the foot of the front door. His eyes were closed, and he was completely still. Harry, still bewildered that Draco was here so early, stared at the man in shock. He looked paler than he had when Harry had first met him, and perhaps that was because of the black wool trench coat he was wrapped in. The young man's wispy platinum blonde hair fell in front of his closed eyes. Draco’s features were all very sharp, with his high cheekbones, slender nose, and visible jawline. Despite this, his appearance was softened by his long eyelashes that rested on his cheek bones, and his soft pink lips that were parted slightly is his current state of serenity. It didn’t help that the golden light of the still rising sun illuminated his features with a soft golden tone

“Uh- excuse-” Harry’s attempt to wake up Draco was cut off by Draco startling awake and slamming his head into Harry’s nose.

Harry recoiled quickly, groaning slightly in pain, holding his nose which had started to bleed. Draco gasped, looking at Harry in surprise.

“I’m sorry,” Draco apologized, his voice so quiet it was barely audible,

“S’all right,” Harry responded, still holding his nose, and moving forward to unlock the art studio. Harry glanced at Draco again. Draco was looking at him, surprised Harry had heard his apology, and accepted his apology.

As soon as the door was open, Draco bolted into the second room, not sparing Harry a second glance. Harry sighed slightly before heading to the bathroom to clean his face and stick some tissues up his nose. When Harry came back into the main room, Luna was sitting at a desk, rifling through some paperwork.

“You woke up Draco,” She mused, not looking up from her work. Her hair fell in front of her face, lit up by the sun, making her hair a golden blonde. Her hair looked strikingly similar to Draco’s, especially in the sunlight.

Harry grunted in response to her statement, “Is he there every morning?”

“Since he started coming,”

Harry nodded, before turning and walking into the second room. He sat on the shiny white tile floor, in front of a teal cabinet with aged flower painted designs decorating it. He opened the cabinet and resumed sorting the paint bottles from where he had left off the day before. He glanced at Draco, the young man was in the same spot where he had been the day before, but this time he was standing over his painting looking down at it critically. His eyebrows were knitted together, and his stormy grey eyes were dark and calculating. He chewed his lip lightly and hands were on his hips. Then, after a little longer of just staring at the painting, his head shot up and he moved to the cabinet Harry was organizing. Harry averted his gaze quickly. He heard Draco pause for a moment, then he walked to Harry and kneeled beside him. Draco’s gaze darted around for a little white, then he delicately picked up a bottle of a pink/orange coral color and strided back to his spot by the window.

Harry turned his gaze to Draco once again and watched as he made delicate and thoughtful strokes on the canvas. Every motion seemed intentional. Never doubting his movements. His confidence never wavering. Then, Draco stopped. His eyes flicked up and looked directly into Harry’s. Harry’s eyes went wide as he stared into the storm, afraid to look away and break eye contact. So he didn’t look away. The world was frozen. All that Harry could see was the grey orbs that bore into his own from across the room.

Then Draco looked away. Harry forced himself to turn his attention back to organizing the paint. Then, he heard Draco get up and leave the room. Harry sighed, lying down on the ground and resting his hands over his eyes.

What was happening to him?


End file.
